


i only see daylight

by eddiesdiaz



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Evan Buckley is a Taylor Swift stan and you can't change my mind, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Singing, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), like so much fluff it's disgusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26402917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiesdiaz/pseuds/eddiesdiaz
Summary: Buck’s good at a lot of things. He’s good at most things, actually, in that effortless kind of way that would be annoying in anyone else but is somehow just endearing when it’s Buck.As it turns out, though, singing is one of the rare exceptions.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 233





	i only see daylight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madamewriterofwrongs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamewriterofwrongs/gifts).



> Read on [Tumblr](https://eddiesdiaz.tumblr.com/post/628733615577202688)

Buck’s good at a lot of things. He’s good at most things, actually, in that effortless kind of way that would be annoying in anyone else but is somehow just endearing when it’s Buck.

As it turns out, though, singing is one of the rare exceptions.

Eddie discovers it on a lazy Sunday morning. Buck had crashed on the couch after their weekly movie night, and when Eddie wanders into the living room in the morning, Buck greets him with a yawn and a sleepy smile and a promise to make his Diaz boys breakfast after he takes a quick shower.

While he’s gone, Eddie goes around the house and gathers all the laundry he’s been putting off doing all week. There’s a lot more of it lately, he’s noticed — Buck’s here often enough that nearly half the clothes in Eddie’s hamper are his.

He’s making his way down the hallway with a basket of Christopher’s clothes on his hip when he hears it. As Eddie walks by the bathroom, through the door, he can just make out Buck cheerily singing an upbeat pop song Eddie vaguely recognizes — Taylor Swift, he thinks.

Objectively, Buck’s terrible. Eddie barely even knows the song, and he can still tell that Buck’s off-pitch and off-beat and just generally shrill and grating and verging on dying cat territory. It’s quite possibly the worst singing he’s ever heard, but he can tell Buck’s putting his all into it anyway; wholeheartedly and unapologetically, like he does everything. 

It makes an impossibly fond smile stretch across Eddie’s face. He thinks of him and Christopher singing along to the radio together on their morning drives to school, and he pictures Buck there with them, joining in, and then he stops dead in his tracks as his breath catches in his throat.

It’s not some big, dramatic, earth-shattering revelation. The world keeps turning exactly as it has been — nothing changes. It’s more of a quiet realization, like he’s been falling a little bit more in love with Buck every day and he’s finally putting it together.

To Eddie’s surprise, he doesn’t freak out about it. There’s no point, though, really. As ridiculous as it is that Buck’s painfully bad singing is what gave him his moment of clarity, it’s so blatantly obvious now how deep his feelings for Buck run. And honestly, if he had to fall in love again, he’s glad it’s with the one person on this earth Eddie knows he can trust with his heart. 

He stands there in the hallway, lost in thought, until the door opens and Buck steps out of the bathroom with a towel slung around his waist. 

“Hey,” Buck says, smiling even as he raises an eyebrow at Eddie in concern. “You okay?”

It takes a significant effort not to get lost in the miles of pretty, pale skin Buck has exposed, which is new, but when Eddie meets his eyes, it’s easy to smile back and nod.

“Yeah,” he answers, and he means it.

Eddie tries to subtly coax Buck into singing again after that. At the station, he has music playing constantly, humming and whistling and singing to himself in an attempt to get Buck to join in, but to no avail. It’s disappointing, but at the same time, it warms Eddie’s heart to know that Buck _knows_ singing isn’t his strong suit and avoids it whenever possible, and yet he felt comfortable enough at Eddie’s house, in Eddie’s shower, to let his guard down and do it anyway.

In the end, it’s Christopher who finally breaks Buck’s resolve, because the kid can get anyone to agree to anything.

The three of them are watching The Lion King together one night, and as soon as I Just Can’t Wait to Be King starts playing, Eddie and Chris are immediately singing along, just like they always do.

Buck turns to watch them with a smile so soft it makes Eddie’s heart flip in his chest. It’s not good enough for Chris, though, who reaches for the remote so he can pause the movie.

“You have to sing too, Buck,” he says, shooting him a pointed look. “It’s the rules.”

“Trust me, buddy, you don’t want that. I can’t sing,” Buck answers with a laugh, shaking his head.

Chris, for his part, just raises a brow. “So? You always tell me you have to do what makes you happy, even if you’re bad at it.”

Buck looks to him for help, but there’s no way in hell Eddie’s going to let this opportunity slip away.

“I do seem to recall a pretty compelling speech about not always having to be the best at everything, as long as you’re having fun,” Eddie says with a shrug.

He can see Buck hesitate for a moment, but Eddie knows he’ll cave. He’s a man of his word, especially when it comes to Christopher. 

Sure enough, Buck takes the remote back with a look of determination and presses play. Not only does he start singing; he takes it a step further still. He launches himself off the couch, pausing just long enough to scoop Chris up in his arms, and then dances around the living room with him.

The sound of Chris’ delighted giggling fills the room, and Eddie keeps singing along halfheartedly, but his focus lies solely on the scene unfolding in front of him. On his family, happy and laughing and so breathtakingly beautiful. 

Before Eddie can stop himself, he grabs his phone and takes a video of Buck and Chris. He wants to remember this forever, wants to bottle up the overwhelming joy and love he feels for his boys in this moment so he can bathe in it on days when the walls start closing in. 

When the song ends, Buck collapses back on the couch with a sigh, Chris falling into his lap.

“You already have plenty of dirt on me, you know,” he says, slightly out of breath as he gestures vaguely at Eddie’s phone. “Did you really need that extra blackmail material?”

Eddie wants to say that he’ll never show it to anyone. That it’s just for him, special and sacred and precious to him in ways Buck will never know. 

But that’s a little too telling, so he just laughs and nudges Buck with his foot and says “I gotta keep you in line somehow, Buckley.”

If he hugs Buck a little tighter and a little longer when he leaves later that night, though, that’s no one’s business but his own.

Eddie’s not proud of his latest tactic, but it does prove to be incredibly effective. 

It’s Christopher’s first night away at camp, so they’re hanging out at Buck’s, because they figured it’d be better to be miserable together than to mope apart.

He didn’t set out to get Buck drunk, necessarily; it just sort of happened. Eddie’s only had one beer, but Buck’s on his fourth, and his loose limbs and lazy grin spark a flicker of hope in Eddie’s chest.

“So, are you ever gonna sing for me?” he asks, shooting for casual. He might as well go for it now, when there’s a higher chance of Buck being agreeable. 

Buck’s brows furrow in confusion, and Eddie has to resist the urge to smooth the wrinkles away with gentle fingers. “What do you mean? I sang for you guys last week.”

“Yeah, but that was for Chris,” Eddie counters. “I want my own show.” 

Buck shrugs easily, picking up his phone and tapping around for a minute until a song starts playing. It’s Taylor Swift again; one Eddie actually knows, because despite the team’s insistence, he doesn’t actually live under a rock. 

He starts singing along, much more relaxed and casual than he had been with Chris, and Eddie’s mesmerized. He’s still as terrible as ever, but he’s having fun with it. He looks carefree, his beautiful blue eyes shining with easy contentment. Buck’s stunning, and Eddie’s so far gone. He really is. 

Eddie knows he has no reason to record him this time, not without the cute kid excuse to hide behind, so he focuses his energy on trying to school his heart eyes into something more believingly platonic instead. 

When the song ends, he gives Buck a standing ovation in encouragement. Buck beams, getting up momentarily to take a bow before they both fall back onto the couch, landing a lot closer to each other than they were before. 

“I never knew you were so into Taylor Swift,” Eddie says, knocking his knee against Buck’s. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s the best. She just _gets it_ , you know?” Buck answers, a little slurred but so genuinely serious it makes Eddie laugh fondly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, nodding. “Like...You Belong With Me? Hey Stephen? God, and _Dress_? She’s a genius, man.” 

They go back to their video game not long after that, and Eddie doesn’t think much more about it. 

Later, though — after he’s tucked a very cuddly drunk Buck into bed and set up camp on the couch so he can keep an eye on him — it worms its way back into Eddie’s mind again. On a whim, he reaches for his phone and taps into the YouTube app. 

He listens to the first two songs Buck had mentioned, and he starts to put things together. 

_If you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can’t you see...you belong with me?_

_Come feel this magic I’ve been feeling since I met you...can’t help it if there’s no one else._

The lyrics are painfully relatable, familiar in a way that makes Eddie’s heart ache in his chest. The ache grows, morphing into something brighter and hopeful, when it hits him that Buck thinks they’re relatable too.

When Eddie listens to Dress, though...that one takes his breath away.

_You made your mark on me, a golden tattoo._

_All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting; my hands are shaking from holding back from you._

_Say my name and everything just stops...I don’t want you like a best friend._

_Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me._

_My one and only, my lifeline._

Every line cuts Eddie down to his core. It’s like he could have written it himself, if he was half as good with words. 

He can’t sleep after that. He tries, but the song keeps replaying in his head on a loop as he lays there, staring up at the ceiling. All he can think about is Buck listening to this song when he’s alone and thinking of Eddie, of the lyrics echoing through Buck’s mind when their eyes met or their hands brushed in moments Eddie was sure he’d been reading too much into.

Around 3:00 AM, Eddie gives up on the prospect of sleep and instead starts thinking about what the hell he’s going to say to Buck in the morning. Because this is big. It’s the kind of conversation Eddie usually ruins by either saying the wrong thing or saying nothing at all. He can’t mess this up, though; it’s not an option. Not when he’s so close to having this — to having _everything_ — with Buck.

His eyes land on Buck’s laptop sitting in the middle of the coffee table, and suddenly the answer is clear. Eddie grabs the computer, loads up Buck’s music library, and starts playing Taylor’s entire discography in search of the perfect song. Because if Buck’s love language is Taylor Swift...well, Eddie can do that.

Eddie’s making coffee in the morning when Buck appears at the top of the stairs, whining pathetically and squinting at the sun like it’s personally offended him.

“Morning,” Eddie calls to him, lips stretching into an affectionate smile. “Come down here, I need to talk to you.”

“Sounds serious,” Buck says, eyeing Eddie warily as he makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen. “I’m too hungover for serious.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep, so we’re even,” Eddie counters with a laugh. He slides a mug of coffee across the counter to him, ridiculously sweet, just the way Buck likes it.

Buck hums his appreciation, taking a few long sips before setting his mug back down and looking at Eddie expectantly.

“Okay. What’s up?”

In answer, Eddie presses play on Buck’s laptop, then walks around the island so he’s standing in front of Buck and holds out a hand.

“Dance with me, Buck.”

Buck looks absolutely lost, like that was the last thing he’d expected to come out of Eddie’s mouth, but he smiles almost shyly as he does what he’s told and steps into Eddie’s space.

His hands tentatively land on Eddie’s waist. It’s the first time Eddie’s ever danced with someone taller than him, but he adjusts easily. It’s comfortable, the most natural thing in the world, as he wraps his arms loosely around Buck’s neck.

“Since when do _you_ listen to Taylor?” Buck asks, sounding a little breathless. 

“Since about 3:00 this morning,” Eddie admits with a sheepish smile. “This song reminded me of you.”

They’re close enough that he can feel Buck’s breath hitch and his skin go warm under Eddie’s fingers. “Eddie,” he whispers, reverent and so, so hopeful. 

Eddie sways gently in time to the music, looking at Buck with more raw sincerity and vulnerability than he’s ever given to anyone.

“I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you,” he sings quietly.

Buck leans forward and presses their foreheads together, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you,” Buck answers, voice shaky.

“I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night, and now I see daylight,” Eddie continues, spinning them around in a slow, easy circle.

Buck opens his eyes again, looking into Eddie’s own with intensity and overwhelming softness simultaneously. They’re so blue and beautiful Eddie could drown in them.

“I only see daylight,” they sing in unison, and then Eddie closes the small amount of space still remaining between them and captures Buck’s lips with his own. 

It’s short and chaste, but it’s a promise of so much more. Of a lifetime full of easy, familiar, _comfortable_ love. It’s not black and white, and it’s not burning red; it’s golden.

Buck’s grinning as he takes Eddie’s hand and steps back so he can twirl him, then pulls him back into his arms and dips him. Eddie laughs, bright and carefree, and Buck leans down to steal another kiss. 

Buck tells the story to everyone who will listen — to the entire firehouse, to Christopher’s teachers at parent-teacher night, to random civilians he saves out on calls — of how romantically his boyfriend told him he loved him, always with a dorky, lovesick smile plastered on his face. 

Eddie thought it would bother him at first, being publicly portrayed as emotional and sappy and vulnerable so constantly, but he finds he doesn’t mind at all. Buck deserves an incredible, beautiful love story, and Eddie’s not afraid to give it to him.


End file.
